Italian Stallion
by Miss Jo1
Summary: Response to PYOP challenge, and my first attempt at a one shot.  When Rossi and Garcia team up to make dinner, the results have a "fiery" finish.


Title: Italian Stallion

Author: MissJo1

Rating: G

Summary: response to the "Pick your own Prompt" Challenge, and my first attempt at a one-shot. The prompt was:

Your chosen pairing is: Rossi/Garcia

Your assigned scenario is: Character A catches Character B's apartment on

fire…accidentally or on purpose..your choice!

"Rossi, hand me the vanilla!"

Garcia looked over at her partner in crime for this new project, and tried not to grin as he reached for the bottle. Her co-worker was in his version of casual, and covered by a burgundy apron with the inscription, "Italian Stallion", embroidered on the chest.

Following the Foyet debacle and Hailey's death, the team had approached a breaking point. Hotch was in emotional lockdown, refusing to engage with anyone. Morgan had been losing his temper more and more frequently, and Reid had been growing more pale and irritable, making everyone worry about his sobriety.

In a panic, JJ and Prentiss had hatched a plan to keep the team together and on the straight and narrow. They devised a plan for weekly "family" dinners where work could not be discussed. They would work in pairs to prepare the food, and make a three -course meal for the entire team. In theory, this would help the team interact with each other in a lower stress environment, and keep the team from imploding. To everyone's surprise, it appeared to be working.

Initially, the meals had been simple: pasta, homemade pizzas and casseroles. Then, Morgan and Prentiss raised the stakes by making a complicated meal that included a death by chocolate seven layer torte; now the competitive streak of the team had come to light. The team of Rossi and Garcia were determined to outdo all the previous dinners.

They had chosen French cuisine. The morning had been spent working on an intensely flavored beef bourgignon. It would be paired with a salad of greens and autumn fruits, and finally, a homemade crème brulee.

The problem was, neither one of them were really very good in the kitchen. Rossi had spilled wine, which had been mopped up with paper towels, and the pile was growing. Penelope's counter was already crowded with mail, papers and assorted debris, so occasionally a pile would dislodge and fall to the ground. Recipes and eggshells haphazardly placed on counters were evidence that this attempt at crème brulee had not been their first.

"Okay, I think this looks pretty good," Garcia said, neatly arranging the small ramekins of crème brulee on a tray. All we have to do is caramelize the sugar." She reached for the butane torch.

Rossi snatched it away. "absolutely not. I will do the caramelizing. You go ahead and set the table. I brought some napkins that came from Provence." He fiddled with the starter and within moments a hiss could be heard as the torch ignited.

Penelope stomped off to set the table. The nerve of that man! She kept an eye on the torch as she folded the yellow flowered napkins, tying them neatly with raffia and a sprig of lavender.

"What are you doing?' Rossi asked, looking over the countertop. "Why are you putting lavender in the napkins?"

"Because it's French." Garcia continued with her task.

"Yes, but what are people supposed to do with them once they've unwrapped their napkins? And why are you tying them up with twine?"

"It's not twine, it's raffia. Stop trying to control everything and caramelize." Garcia snapped.

Rossi stood on his tiptoes to see more the table more clearly. It was a mistake to let Garcia set the table, he thought. She was probably going to find a way to incorporate glitter into the setting if he didn't intervene.

He opened his mouth to tell Garcia that the wine glasses were on the wrong side, but stopped when she glared at him. He would just move the glasses when she wasn't looking. He thought about what sort of task to give her so she could move away from the table, and he could fix the mess. Nodding to himself, he turned his attention back to the torch. Uh oh.

"Why do I smell smoke? Oh my god, Rossi! What did you do?" Garcia shrieked as she realized that the papers on her counter had been set alight by the torch as he attempted to supervise her. Rossi tried to turn off the torch, but dropped it as the tip of his beard began to burn from the heat. In a panic, he nearly dropped the torch. Hurrying to the window, he attempted to throw the torch out and into the fountain.

Unfortunately, his aim was off. The curtains ignited and began to melt. Dear god, he had just set Garcia's cluttered apartment on fire. He turned, and was almost knocked over as Garcia hurried around the house, collecting computer equipment and knick knacks. She shoved an armful of stuff into his arms. Just then, the fire alarm and sprinklers turned on.

"Get out! She shouted, pushing him out the door.

"But I don't have my shoes!" He nearly fell as she pushed him again.

"Out!" She hurried back in to collect more "treasures".

"Well, Italian Stallion. I guess you have made the evening memorable." The team was standing in front of Garcia's apartment building.

Rossi scowled at Morgan. He moved from foot to foot, trying to ignore the fact his feet had frozen numb about ten minutes ago, and he was still clad in his apron. Garcia was warm, having snuggled into the arms of her "Chocolate Adonis." With a whisper, he scooped up the blonde woman and carried her to his truck.

With a shake of his head, Hotch moved away from his friend, and went to talk to the fire marshal. Rossi looked around at the dispersing team.

"Hey, is anyone going to get something to eat?


End file.
